The Charmer (Harbor City 2)

Felicia could totally see where Hudson had gotten his confidence and his willingness to manipulate a situation. However, this time Felicia wasn’t falling for it.

“It wasn’t like that between us.” At least not in any way that Hudson’s mom needed to know about. She reached for the door handle. “Well, if there’s nothing I can help you with…”

Helene gave her a considering look, the kind that probably turned people to nervous wrecks but only made Felicia ache because it reminded her so much of Hudson.

“No, nothing,” the older woman said. “So sorry to have bothered you.”

Felicia opened the door for Helene who walked through it as if she had minions to do that for her—which she probably did. However, she stopped halfway through the door.

“He’s revamping his gallery show this weekend, you know,” she said, turning back to face Felicia. “Everly told me he called her out of the blue and said he was changing everything. I’m not sure what the new show will focus on, but you should come. If you’ve never been to a Hughston show before, you’re really missing out.”

Felicia blinked in surprise. His show? She knew? Talk about burying the lead. That was the kind of information that went up front. “He told you?”

“Darling, he didn’t have to tell me. We mothers always know. But yes, he finally confessed.” She withdrew a postcard-sized invitation from her handbag and gave it to Felicia. “Here’s a VIP invitation to the show, just in case you decide to come. You should bring Tyler. It’s so nice to have him back in the family fold. Good-bye, darling.”

Then without another word, Helene strode out the door and up the steps to the town car double-parked at the curb where a man in a chauffeur’s uniform was waiting to open the car door for her. Felicia looked down at the invitation. It listed Hughston’s name, the Black Heart Gallery, and the time. She read it over at least ten times, clenching her jaw tight to keep from crying, and then dropped it into the trash can in the kitchen and headed into her bedroom to make an early night of it.

Chapter Twenty-One

Every table in the new Grounded Coffee location down the block from Felicia’s apartment was taken up by someone with a laptop or a pair of moms with strollers parked nearby. It was loud, crowded, and the last place in the world she wanted to be. She’d been to work, wasn’t that enough peopling for one day?

“If you even try to make a run for it, I’m blocking the door,” Tyler said, taking a step between her and her escape route.

“That’s false imprisonment,” she said with one last wistful look toward the exit that would get her back to her apartment sooner.

He shook his head and corralled her into the line of caffeine addicts and muffin munchers. “Felicia, you can’t hide away another day. It’s either coffee with me, or I call in your brothers.”

Oh God. All the Hartigans crowded into her apartment was the last thing she needed. “You wouldn’t.”

“Not if you sit your butt down and have an espresso.”

The mention of coffee reminded her of the time Hudson had brought a cardboard tray of drinks to her house because he wasn’t sure what she liked. “Green tea.”

“Whatever.” Tyler shrugged. “Just order, and then we’ll go scare off some wifi freeloader to get a table.”

The simplicity of that plan—as devious as it was—made her laugh for the first time in days. “Blackmailing me isn’t nice.”

“Yeah.” He grinned. “But it gets the job done.”

They ordered and Tyler did, indeed, glare at a guy with a laptop and six empty disposable coffee cups scattered on his table. In the end, the woman next to him left her table and they snagged it. After they sat down, she grabbed the printouts she’d made for Tyler. Distraction? Her? Never.

“Here’s the information you wanted on that museum donor,” she said, handing them over. “What are you after anyway?”

He folded up the papers without looking at them and slid them underneath his phone on the table. “Nice try on swapping the subject.”

Well, it was worth a try. “We were talking about something?”

“Yeah. You hiding.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” It’s not like it would do any good anyway. Hudson was as good as his word. After she’d banished him from her apartment, he’d stayed away. “My love life is a topic best left buried with the salted earth.”

“Don’t blame yourself for falling for me,” Tyler said, teasing. “It’s hard not to love me when I’m hot, smart, and rich.”

But there was hard not to love and then there was impossible not to love. Everything with Tyler had been built on a teenage girl’s belief of what the perfect man would be like. Hot. Smart. Rich wasn’t necessary but it sure didn’t hurt things. It wasn’t a bad list, but she should have been smart enough to realize love needed more variables than just that. Instead, she’d put that down on her list and refused to budge on it, despite all the proof that her hypothesis was wrong—until falling for Hudson had forced her to reevaluate everything. Her gut told her she was on to something, but she had to test it out.

Cheeks burning with embarrassment, she took a drink of green tea for fortification. “Ask me what color underwear I’m wearing.”

Tyler blanched. “Please don’t make me do that. You’re like my sister and there are some things I don’t want to know.”